


Blue Hyacinths and Birthdays

by weaverofdreams45



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:33:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26519827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weaverofdreams45/pseuds/weaverofdreams45
Summary: Hermione Granger gets the surprise of her life when Viktor Krum suddenly shows up in her life again after 10 years.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Viktor Krum
Comments: 4
Kudos: 81
Collections: Hermione's Birthday Soirée 2020





	Blue Hyacinths and Birthdays

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a new pairing for me and such a fun challenge to keep short (as I am a very long-winded writer) maybe I'll add to it someday if there's any interest!

“So small and yet so fierce.” A sultry, deep, slightly accented voice echoes behind Hermione, every lustrous syllable drawing the moisture from her mouth, leaving it dry.

Viktor Krum had become even more handsome with age, a dark beard adding a dimension to his face, turning him into a dignified figure. His lean muscle was defined by his dark gray robes, which clung to his form like smoke. A sash of red velvet so deep that she imagined it must be intentionally reminiscent of blood. Confidence and pride seemed to protrude from him as he stood before her. All evidence of the uncertain and secretly awkward boy who’d invited her to the Yule Ball all those years ago was gone.

Suddenly aware of her stare, Hermione cleared her throat, pushing a loose strand of hair from one of her braids behind her ears. She’d just finished filibustering a bill before the Wizengamot; werewolf rights. Most people had been shocked when war heroine and best friend of the Chosen One, Hermione Granger, had chosen a menial office job in the department of Magical Creatures. It was not glamorous work in any way, but Hermione felt passion for it and that gave her enough reason to keep going. 

Standing in front of this new Viktor, she felt insignificant and small. He was taller than her at the time they met, but the difference felt staggering in her comfortable kitten heels and well-worn ministry robes. The pale blue, nearly grey robes weren’t unflattering per say, but they were not the ideal wardrobe for meeting a handsome friend from one’s past.

“Lets hope I was ferocious enough.” Hermione called back finally, detesting the feminine lilt in her voice. Unconsciously, she began to gnaw on her lower lip, a nervous habit she’d been trying to break.

He stretched down in a low bow before her, taking her small hand in his and brushing his lips against her knuckles. Normally, Hermione detested this sort of outdated pageantry, but there was no disguising the tremor of her heartbeat nor the flush in her face when Viktor’s surprisingly soft lips meet her skin. It burns her, but in a way that is more pleasant than even she wanted to admit.

“What are you doing here?” Hermione gurgles out, her thoughts tumbling from her lips with a tone so eager it sounds slightly accusatory. She hasn’t seen him in years, and a natural suspicion has been beaten and bruised into her by her year of war.

“I am a new diplomat for my government. My position does not technically begin until Monday, but I vould never miss this special day.” From a hidden slit in his sleeve, he pulls out his wand. Wordlessly, he conjures a single blue hyacinth and Hermione’s eyes go wide. Its her favorite flower but how…how would he possibly remember that.

It takes several moments for Hermione to even process what he’s said. A special day? What could he mea… and then it hits her. September 19th. In her fury to prepare for her presentation she’d nearly forgotten her own birthday. 

After the war…after everything, she tried to push away celebrations. Without her parents it never really did feel much like a celebration anyway. Harry and Ron always insisted on celebrating, but over the years auror duties and then their growing families had turned elaborate parties into dinners and dinners into presents delivered to her home by owl. 30 wasn’t so special anyway.

“You didn’t have to.” Hermione begins, but falters. Its so simple a gesture, and yet it means so much. She remembers exactly the conversation they’d been having…

* * *

_“Viktor.” Her voice carried despite the whisper, as both their eyes glanced around for the inpatient Madam Pince. It had been a few weeks since the star seeker of the Bulgarian Quidditch team and shining jewel of Durmstrang had taken an inexplicit interest in her and still they’d barely spoken to each other beyond a kind word here or there._

_“Yes Hermioninny.” The boy responded, his accent and butchering of her name causing her to smile fondly._

_“Being famous, you must’ve done loads of interviews.” She could see his dark eyes watching her, as intrigue began to form behind them. He wanted to know what she was asking, but he’d wait for her to reveal herself rather than edging her on. It was one of his most attractive traits; his patience. “So why don’t you ask me a question you’ve always wished someone would ask you?”_

_Gryffindors were known for their bravery, but this was a particularly brave thing for Hermione to say in that moment; or rather more forward than she was particularly comfortable with. But something in the kind way Viktor watched her read gave her a boldness she’d never really felt before._

_“What is your favorite flower?” He had spoken, in his accented English. It had clearly taken him some time to find the right translation in his brain. “My mother loved flowers, as do I.”_

_Hermione couldn’t help the small, warm smile that spread on her face. He was perfect, gentle in a way she wasn’t sure anyone truly got the privilege of seeing. “Hyacinths. Blue hyacinths. My mother carried them in her bouquet when she married my father and we always used to pick them from my grandmother’s garden.”_

* * *

That had been the start of their burgeoning romance, ruined before it began by the tournament and its scrutinies. Now over a decade later, she finds herself awe-struck that he’d remembered.

“This is…” The words won’t seem to form in her mind or her throat, the sweet gesture reminding her of the bitter loss of her parents and yet the love they felt for her at the same time. “You’ve remembered.” She finally chokes out, watching his form carefully as he chuckles lightly.

“I’ve never forgotten. I have spent the last ten years searching for something that I realized I’d already found. When I saw your Prophet on a newsstand in Budapest, I was reminded of that beautiful, intelligent girl that so kindly let me step on her feet.” They both laugh at that, remembering how it was Hermione, not Viktor who’d done the feet stepping.

Hermione’s large brown eyes connect with his nearly black ones and its like she’s seeing him for the first time all over again.

“Viktor why…why are you really here?” Hermione’s voice is light as she speaks, unsure of whether she longs for the answer or fears it. Every serious relationship she’s tried to hold together has always fallen apart by some reason or another. With Ron it was her devotion to her work and unwillingness to be the stay at home wife they both knew he wanted. Oliver had been too prone to travelling for work, leaving them both to feel as if they were just a shadow of what they both wished was love. A muggle boy she’d met at a pub with some of her childhood friends was too shiny, too untouched by the darkness she’d endured. 

Yet in this moment with Viktor standing in front of her, she felt that same braveness compound in her skin, drawing across her flesh like a lionness’s coat.

When finally he answered her, she was smirking at him, like a cat that had found a bowl of cream. Why be afraid of love, when she could be enraptured by it?

“Ve vere together once before, long ago. A vorld and a var apart. You vere one of the first vomen who ever looked at me as more than what I was. My fame meant nothing to you and instead you learned who I truly was. I’d like an opportunity to show you who I am now.” Once again, his hand grabbed hers and she fought her instinct to pull away. “Let me take you to dinner? Let me show you who I’ve become?”

Hermione’s cheeks flushed as she nodded her head, looking down at where his long, calloused fingers held her palm. That same feeling that had infested itself in the pit of her stomach when she was 15 filled her again, and she realized that this had been what had been missing from all those relationships that had come and gone. None of them had ever made her feel like she was the only person in the whole world quite like Viktor had.

There were many things that Hermione would reminisce on later in life, but one of the most important was how Viktor Krum had been the best birthday present she’d ever received.


End file.
